By Pallavi Verma When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to me.. Speech And she said to me: Pallavi, whatever you be.. Don’t. Be. Me. As my mother sat there on one chair out of four at the dining room table, peeling an orange. I wondered if the tears in her eyes were shooting stars that she was wishing upon, if so, what did she wish for? I wondered if she was looking for an orange that matched th